


Cut Me Farther (Than I've Ever Been)

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It should've been him.





	

It should've been him. 

It should've been Josh standing at the alter, eyes crinkled in a smile as he slipped a ring onto the finger of the man he loved. 

Binding them forever.

He scowled when everyone clapped, white flower petals floating in the air, a celebration. 

Should've been Josh sitting at the Head Table, fingers laced into his husband's, watching their guests dance. 

He grimaced as he watched white lace swirl around the floor, sleek black dress shoes following. 

Should've been Josh laughing as cake was smeared on his face. 

The frosting seemed bittersweet as he ate it now.

Should've been Josh that wrote and prepared vows, sweet and gentle words to speak. 

He crumpled the piece of paper in his pocket. 

Should've been Josh holding his husband's waist, guiding him on the dance floor. 

The lights flashed and made his tears glisten beautifully. 

Should've been Josh pressing his lips against his husband's, almost laughing because he was so happy that this day had come. 

He had turned his head. 

Should've been Josh that got to trace his fingers all over his husband's body, eyes drinking in the magnificent sight of tanned skin and black ink. 

His tuxedo sleeve was getting damp. 

Should've been Josh that experienced every moment, every date, every quick peck on the lips, every fight, makeup, lazy mornings, silent nights, every comforting- 

"Hey, Josh, dude, what's wrong?" 

Should've been Josh to come up behind his husband, a worried look on his face as he comforted the bachelorette. 

"Nothing, Tyler. I'm fine." 

He tried. 

"Hey, Jen, can we..talk for a bit? Just me and Josh?" 

Josh winced. 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Please?" 

"No." 

Should've been, would've been, could've been. 

The chair scooted back and shiny black shoes clicked slightly on the floor, leaving a groom sitting dumbfounded. 

He was in the dressing room. 

Where he could've watched his husband get ready, admire how well his tux fit him, fix his corsage. 

A fine jacket was slung over a chair, now cradled in Josh's scarred fingers. 

Smells he'd never be able to enjoy every day flooded his nose. 

It was intimate and he felt embarrassed. 

Intruding. 

Gross. 

The door opened but the red-haired boy didn't move an inch. 

Tears stained the black fabric. 

"Josh.." 

"I wanted you." 

His voice was dry and rough, thick from crying. 

"I loved you." 

Silence. 

"I-Josh, I um-" 

The boy stood, handing the groom his coat reluctantly. 

"I hope you're happy." 

He was gone. 

Anger now took it's course, pulsing through his veins. 

Every joke was like a stab in his heart. 

Blood dripping as it cut farther, harder, deeper. 

They all thought it was funny. 

Josh wasn't joking. 

He wanted it, wanted it to happen more than anything in his life. 

And for the other to be so blind? 

To not see his affections? 

Ridiculous. 

Foolish. 

Just plain stupid, in Josh's mind. 

All those nights, talking about what they wanted to do in life, taken for granted? 

The nights of hot, damp skin against skin, just a JOKE? 

Every day seemed like a step closer to his life becoming one big joke, he thought. 

He choked when the news came. 

A father. 

He was not. 

He stood, watching with quiet eyes as the two announced their pregnancy.

The man's eyes flicked towards his, and Josh could've sworn he heard his heart crack. 

He excused himself as he walked out. 

Getting as drunk as he wanted that night, going home alone. 

Sitting in the dark, alone.

Overused tears flowing from his overused eyes, running down his overused cheeks. 

An overused boy. 

It wasn't his fault, no, Josh made sure to write in the note. 

It was his life, he could've done whatever he wanted. 

Shaking hands tucked the note into an envelope as the bottle sat next to him. 

Small and orange, it was. 

The envelope was the same one he'd received before the wedding, an invitation. 

Stamped with a heart. 

The pills were white and they stung as they struggled dryly down his throat. 

It didn't hurt. 

He laid down, eyes closing as fuzzy colors clouded his vision. 

The last image he saw was a brunette boy, smiling at him with crooked teeth and chocolate eyes.

He was wearing a tuxedo.

It was nice. 

He was found three days later. 

By the same man that had caused it. 

It wasn't his fault, no, the letter had said. 

But the brunette knew it was. 

He hated himself. 

Every minute of every day it was on his mind. 

Always reminded every time he opened his phone. 

Haunted. 

The woman, she didn't help, either. 

She seemed taboo now. 

Taboo. 

For causing it all. 

He wanted nothing anymore, nothing but the boy with red hair. 

There were no more shows. 

It was silent. 

Keyboard gone, ukulele tucked away. 

Music dead. 

The ring on his finger burned. 

Should've been Josh, the brunette thought, slipping the ring off and laying it on his dresser as he stepped on the chair, fingers touching the rope hanging from the ceiling gingerly. 

A true Romeo and Juliet story, he thought. 

Such a shame. 

The last image he saw was a boy with red hair and maple syrup eyes that were crinkled as he smiled. 

He was wearing a tuxedo.


End file.
